a dormouse and his hazelnut

That's me. Can't you tell? All that black hair is a dead giveaway! Gabriel produced this in Vieques, and I was so inordinately moved that I saved it for display on the art line back home. It was one of his first faces.

Not a week later, Gabriel drew this picture of his big sister. Before the Mama portrait, there had only been endless rounds of abstract wheeled vehicles. Now he's onto arms, hands, smiles, legs. Not just a face, but a body to go with it! Big changes are afoot, I tell you. (Which doubtless are related to his lack of emotional equilibrium of late; in our experience grumpiness usually heralds a leap...unfortunately we always forget this mid-grump, before the walking, jumping, or reading commences).

These days it's all about books, stories, drawing, and elaborate imaginative play. Gabriel begs to go to the library so that we can find books featuring images that echo and give form to whatever is filling his mind at the moment. Our favorite right now is How Animals Work. It features endless pages of gorgeous nature photography and startling images including an airborne flying squirrel, vultures gathered around bloody prey, and a "very sad" hammerhead shark. I do believe the winner though - out of all the breathtaking and noble creatures documented - is hands-down a hibernating dormouse, curled up in its snug nest next to a single hazelnut. You never know when you will wake up in need of a midwinter snack. The hazelnut is about half its size. Frances and Gabriel will gaze contentedly for long silent minutes at the slumbering dormouse. 

We love the dormouse. Really, who doesn't identify at some level with this tiny fragile creature and his hoarded treasure? 

And when Gabriel loves something, or even finds it mildly intriguing, it is instantly incorporated into his imaginative games and narratives. Spend an hour with this kid and you will understand the power of play therapy and other such techniques for communicating with children about what is most important to them. 

Before Frances was writing her own stories, I used to transcribe them for her. I posted at least one that I remember (scroll down to the bottom to read about Dister Lister), but I had never tried with Gabriel. But just before dinner tonight, inspired by his outlandish storytelling, developmental grands jetés in representational art, and often surprising emotional intelligence, I sat down with my growing boy and the laptop. Here, dear readers, is a story about a dormouse.

G: Once upon a time there was a dormouse. And he was afraid.

M: What was he afraid of?

G: He was afraid of his friends.

M: Why?

G: Because, he was afraid. And he crawled right through his burrow.

M: Were the friends scary?

G: Yeah. They were pretending to be a lion so he crawled right into his burrow and they didn’t come, they stayed for just a minute. Then more friends came, and they didn’t act like lions. They were nice. And then the other friends - the baby naked mole rat* and the baby mole rat’s friends - they came. And the dormouse’s friends stopped being and acting like a lion.

M: What did they do instead?

G: They had lunch. Peanut butter.

M: And jelly?

G: Yes! ...Can I have some peanut butter and jelly right now for dinner?

Fin.

*perhaps the world's ugliest animal...but when Mike observed this as we were looking at photos in the animal book tonight, Gabriel became very protective and explained with great feeling that "he's NOT ugly, Papa. He's NAKED."